


The Only Escape From The Miseries Of Life

by Theonenamedafterahat



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Cats, F/M, Fluff, I figure I owe you guys, M/M, seriously it's just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4952836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theonenamedafterahat/pseuds/Theonenamedafterahat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“The only escape from the miseries of life are music and cats...”</em><br/>― Albert Schweitzer</p><p> </p><p>Happy fluff with cat!jean and cat!armand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. d'Artagnan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kyele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyele/gifts), [Themadwomanwhoisunfortunatelylackingabox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themadwomanwhoisunfortunatelylackingabox/gifts).



> The planets and the stars and these posts (http://theregoesallthecottoncandy.tumblr.com/post/130695763925/bean-about-town-theregoesallthecottoncandy, http://timeforalongstory.tumblr.com/post/130487412605/prompt#notes) aligned to make me write this. Because Richelieu is a catholic cat-a-holic. So clearly I had to write cat!jean/cat!armand fluff. Clearly.

“I swear to God, Armand,” Jean snarls, “if that boy throws that bit of string again, I’m pulling down the curtains again.” 

“But we only just finished arranging them, dear,” Armand miaows. It’s always like this. Whenever Louis and Anne leave them with someone, things go wrong. 

Given that Armand's definition of 'wrong' includes anything that doesn’t involve Jean, Armand, and preferably something soft and warm for them to lie on together, there’s a rather wide variety of things that can, and do, go wrong. 

“AND AGAIN!” Jean howls, tearing after the string as it flies through the air. “IF YOU WANT IT SO BAD, STOP FUCKING THROWING IT!” 

Armand curls up in a small ball. It’s cold. He’s always cold when he tries to sleep alone. That’s why he has Jean. Rugged, handsome, dependable Jean. Jean who once fought off a pitbull that tried to attack Armand’s owner, thus securing his place in Armand’s home and heart. Jean who should be here, keeping Armand from freezing to death, not fetching bits of string for some indecisive boy. 

“Right,” Jean growls, holding the string between his two front paws, “I’m only giving this back if you promise not to throw it again. Deal?” 

Armand puts his head on his paws mournfully. Pay attention to me, Jean. 

There’s a small vase balanced on the table above him. If he knocked it over, would that be enough to get Jean’s attention? Actually, Armand thinks, stretching, that’s not such a bad idea. 

He leaps up to the tabletop as Jean streaks across the room - “WHAT IN THE NAME OF GOD ARE YOU DOING?!” - and sits there, preening for a moment. You wouldn't catch Belgard from across the street managing a height like that. Oh yeah, he’s still got it. He prowls leisurely towards the vase. 

_“Wait, Richelieu, what are you doing?”_

Armand rests his paw on the vase oh so gently. This is a matter of principle. He has to do it. For Jean. For their love. 

_“Richelieu, don’t push that, do NOT PUSH THAT VASE -“_

CRACK _“- OH MY GOD.”_

“Armand?” Jean looks up at him, blinking. 

“Pay attention to me!” Armand miaows plaintively. 

 

—

 

_“No, Constance I’m not kidding - Richelieu deliberately knocked the vase off the table! Oh, I know why he’d do that, it’s because that cat is evil! I don’t know why Anne is so taken with him - ”_

Armand purrs contentedly as Jean curls up alongside him, gently wrapping their tails together. 

“You silly thing,” Jean miaows, bumping their noses together. “You know I’d spend every minute of every day with you if I could, it’s just this boy…he needs instruction. I can’t let him go out into the world like this; throwing things he wants far away.” 

Armand doesn’t answer, choosing instead to burrow deeper into Jean’s warmth. My Jean, he thinks sleepily. And Jean must be able to hear his thought, as he purrs in reply, “My Armand.” 


	2. Anne and Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Armand, in the beginning (i.e. Jean fights a pitbull).

_“What’s wrong little cat? Why won’t you eat?”_  

Armand sighs softly. There’s food in front of him - good, high quality food - but he can’t eat it. Not knowing that the love of his life is outside, cold and alone, with nothing but what he can kill with his own paws. 

When he first met Jean, Armand thought he was nothing more than a raggedy street cat, with too many scars and too few wits. On that day, Armand had gone outside for some fresh air. He had never imagined that once outside, he wouldn’t be able to find his way home again. After chasing away the only cat interested enough to approach him, Armand had curled up in a cardboard box. It was raining, and he’d never experienced anything like rain before. Crying quietly, he had thought himself destined to be washed clean away. But then Jean had returned, and he’d wrapped himself around Armand, keeping Armand warm and dry at the expense of his own comfort. The next day he’d found food for the both of them, and never touched his share until Armand had finished. 

Armand curls up on the windowsill. He has a radiator beneath him, and blankets and cushions all around. Jean has nothing. Jean is outside, and he’s alone. And it’s about to rain. 

“Jean,” Armand miaows quietly. “Jean.” In his head, it sounds like ‘I love you’.  

_“Louis, when you get home I think we should call a vet…because there’s something wrong with Richelieu! Yes, our cat Richelieu, why would I want to call a vet for my father? I still think it was silly to name our cat after him. Even if he likes it. He’s irrational about cats, I don’t think he’s qualified to make these decisions.”_

Armand had wanted to take Jean home with him straight away. Already the cat had many scars, and despite his muscles he was far too small. Armand didn’t want to think about what would happen if Jean was left on his own again. Clearly, despite being the best of cats, Jean fought far too much. 

Anne and Louis hadn’t even let Jean in the house, Armand thinks sadly. 

Wait. Armand can see movement outside. Is it - could it be - “Jean?” He miaows. It is Jean! Jean is in his garden! Can Jean see him? He’s sitting still on the grass, staring. The scar next to his right eye really is very compelling, Armand thinks. 

Armand places his paw on the glass. “Jean, I think about you every day.” 

But Jean clearly can’t hear him. Armand doesn’t even know if Jean can see him. Slowly, reluctantly, Jean stands, stretches, and begins to walk away. 

“Don’t go Jean!” Armand yowls, “Louis will be home soon! When he opens the door you can slip in! Don’t go Jean!” 

His heart falls. I love you, he thinks. He’s not going to miaow it out loud, not when Jean can’t hear him. Those words belong to Jean now. He can only hope that Jean has some for him in return. 

Louis’ car pulls up outside. 

It’s alright for you, Armand thinks as Anne picks him up and begins to walk towards the door. Your lover can come and go as he pleases, but what about me? What about Jean? 

“Please let Jean in, Anne,” Armand miaows at her. 

_“What’s wrong, little cat? Why are you so sad? God, I sound just like my father. Do you want me to turn into my father, little cat?”_

_“Argh!”_

_“Louis? LOUIS!”_

Anne drops Armand to the floor, running to the door. Armand would feel more indignant, but even he can tell that sound doesn’t mean anything good. Even if Anne and Louis have betrayed him, he still doesn’t want anything bad to happen to them! Armand trots to the door. 

When he reaches the door he’s stunned with fright. A pitbull has Louis by the ankle; he’s pale and screaming. Anne is screaming, she’s running to him, but someone else gets there first.  

“JEAN!” Armand shrieks. 

Jean has torn across the grass, barreling into the pitbull and knocking him away from Louis. His claws are out, his fur is standing on end, and his teeth are bared in a furious growl. He’s taking Armand’s breath away. Jean rushes the pitbull, who runs like hell in the opposite direction. 

_“Are you alright? Louis…Louis are you alright?”_

_“God, my ankle - did you see that cat?”_

_“That was a cat? Seemed more like a mountain lion! Where’s it gone?”_

“Jean,” Armand miaows plaintively. “Jean, are you alright? Why did you do that? Do you have a death wish?”

“No,” Jean pants, “but I wished for you. I wished that we could be together.” 

Armand hurries to him across the grass. Jean’s face is covered in blood; it’s in his eyes, and all over his ears. Armand decides he doesn’t like it. He’d much prefer to see Jean fully. Well, there’s something he can do about that. 

He gently begins to lick the blood from Jean’s face, purring in-between licks, “Jean, that was wonderful.” 

_“Look at them!”_

_“I’ve never seen Richelieu act like that.”_

Once Jean is clean, Armand pulls back. But Jean follows him, bumping his nose to Armand's softly. “I love you Armand,” he purrs. 

_“Louis, what’s that look?”_

_“Anne, can’t we… we can’t separate them now! Look at them, for God’s sake.”_

_“Louis…”_

_“Besides, I know what we can call him; Treville!”_

_“Louis…well now I’m thinking about it. You know naming out cats after my father and his crush probably won’t help with setting them up?”_

_“Perish the thought, my dear.”_

_“Hmm. Well, it invalidates you from the betting pool anyway. And I suppose…you can’t really have a Richelieu without a Treville, can you.”_

Armand’s heart is full. He can’t move for the joy in his heart. 

“Armand?” Jean miaows. He’s so considerate. Armand’s so lucky. 

“I love you too,” he purrs. “Please stay.” 

“I think I might have to,” Jean miaows wryly. “I think I might have hurt my leg.”

“ **What.** ” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Jean hates being carried, Armand thinks sadly, burrowing into Anne’s arms. It’s something to do with living on the streets for most of his life, Jean doesn’t – Jean didn’t – like to talk about it._
> 
> _Already Armand can picture his life without Jean."_
> 
>  
> 
> Because so many people enjoyed cat Armand's dramatics.

“No. Not that one,” Armand miaows. “It’s not soft enough.” This is one of his favorite games. Anne will lay out her clothes, and Armand will try and pick the one that is the nicest to sleep on. 

 

_“God Louis, I’m going to be late! And dad will shout at me. He always shouts at me when I make him late on Thursdays.”_

_“Well, we all know why that is, dear. Why don’t you just tell them to go on dates by themselves?”_

_“That’s the thing, I don’t think they actually know they’re going on dates? And I’m just OH FOR GOD’S SAKE RICHELIEU!”_

 

There is is. Armand’s favorite sound in the whole wide world (apart from Jean, of course). He sits on the white jumper, gleefully curling up into a small ball. It’s actually a good thing the jumper isn’t darker, otherwise Jean might not be able to find him! When he closes his eyes and tucks his paws in tight, Jean says that sometimes he can’t tell him apart from Anne’s black jumpers, which is ridiculous. Just because Armand is naturally superior at hide-and-seek, that doesn’t mean Jean should make up silly excuses. Do Anne’s jumpers breath? Do they purr? 

 

_‘Louis, I need another jumper!”_

_“Which — ”_

_“One that’s not covered in cat hair!”_

 

Armand licks his paw thoughtfully. Jean really should be here to see Armand’s victory. Things like this are always better when Jean is there to see them. Actually, all things are better with the addition of Jean. Where is he? Armand stands, stretches, and jumps from the bed to the windowsill. 

Oh it’s okay, Jean is just in the garden. Armand can see him, sunning himself on the grass. 

Armand frowns a little. Why is Jean outside, again? Doesn’t he have everything he wants inside the house? Armand certainly doesn’t want anything from outside the house. Well, he wants Jean. But Jean is supposed to be in the house, so that doesn’t count. Why is he outside? 

Armand’s blood runs cold, and he shivers from top to tail. 

Is it possible that there is something outside that Jean wants...more than he wants Armand? Is Jean going to leave him? 

“Jean no!” Armand yowls, helpless, trapped behind cruel, cruel glass. “I can change! Please don’t leave me!” 

 

_“Oh little cat, what are you crying about? I’m still mad at you, Richelieu.”_

 

Armand turns away from the sight of his beloved, clearly about to flee from Armand and the life they’ve built together. “Jean,” he miaows sadly. He looks up at Anne with tears in his eyes.

“Why did Jean stop loving me?” He miaows at her. She picks him up, and starts walking downstairs. 

 

_"This is a disciplinary hug, little cat. Do not derive joy from it.”_

 

Jean hates being carried, Armand thinks sadly, burrowing into Anne’s arms. It’s got something to do with having lived on the streets for most of his life, Jean doesn’t – Jean _didn’t_ – like to talk about it.

Already Armand can picture his life without Jean.

Morning, curled up in their bed, missing Jean.

Lunchtime, curled up on the windowsill, missing Jean.

Afternoon, curled up at the door his love walked out of, missing Jean.

Nighttime, curled up, alone, missing Jean. Always.

 

_“Let Treville in, will you? He’s been outside long enough; if we don’t let him in now he’ll be waiting out there until we get back.”_

 

But wait, is that – “JEAN YOU CAME BACK!” Jean has come through the door, and is sitting, staring up at Armand. 

Armand fights his way out of Anne’s grasp and throws himself upon Jean, knocking him to the floor. “Jean, Jean, Jean-”

“Armand,” Jean miaows, concerned, “what’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Armand coos, “You came back Jean, thank you, _thank you_ -”

“I never left, dear,” Jean purrs, bumping his nose to Armand’s. “I’ll never leave you.”

And Armand, to his shame, _melts_.   


	4. Rochefort [Part One]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Rochefort says Armand is gone forever. Rochefort says Armand is dead. Jean almost killed him for that one; had Rochefort on his back and screaming in pain before Anne and Louis pulled him away._
> 
> Because apparently I can't even write happy-cat-fluff without angst. Sorry.

Armand doesn’t know where he is. He knows it’s dark, and cold, and very wet. His fur is already soaked through, and he’s shivering. “H-h-help,” whimpers Armand, though he knows he can’t be heard. “ _H-h-help_.” 

He’s all alone. What happened? And most importantly, he thinks, where is Jean? 

 

 

—

 

 

Jean wants to like others. He likes Anne and Louis, even though they kept him away from Armand for several painful weeks. He likes d’Artagnan, despite his hopeless ineptitude. He even likes Aramis, Athos and Porthos (but he’ll never tell Armand, who can’t even be in the same room with them without getting headaches). 

Jean doesn’t like Rochefort. Doesn’t even want to. Jean doesn’t like the way Rochefort acts around Anne and Louis, always hogging their attention by misbehaving. Jean doesn’t like the way that Rochefort has been all around the house, determined to find any traces of Armand and extinguish them. Most of all, Jean doesn’t like that Rochefort is here, when Armand is not. 

Rochefort says Armand is gone forever. Rochefort says Armand is dead. Jean almost killed him for that one; had Rochefort on his back and screaming in pain before Anne and Louis pulled him away. 

Jean isn’t allowed in the house when Rochefort is, now. And Rochefort is always in the house. So Jean has to sit in the garden, only allowed to come in for meals and sleep at night. He isn’t allowed to go to his old bed, which he shared with Armand. 

“Armand, where are you?” He yowls, all night, every night, sitting at the window. Maybe Armand, wherever he is, will hear him? Even if he doesn’t answer. Armand has to know Jean still cares. Armand has to know Jean still loves him, has _always_ loved him, _will always love him._

Jean never let himself want anything, until he met Armand. Then all he wanted was to be with Armand, and love him, forever and ever. 

“Armand, I miss you. Please come back,” he cries into the night. “Please, _please_ come back, Armand. I need you. I _love_ you.” 

 

_“This is awful.”_

_“I know. But what can we do, Louis?”_

 

 

—

 

 

Armand doesn’t want to die. He’d very much like to live. Death has always seemed so final, whereas life? Ah, where there is life there is hope, and love, and Jean. 

And Jean would be devastated if Armand died, he knows. One time Armand got sick; he remembers vets, and foul medicine, and Jean refusing to leave his side for a second. Jean curled around him at night, not sleeping, but whimpering over and over ‘ _Please don’t leave me. Please don’t go. I love you. I can’t be alone again. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t go. Please, please-_ ” a litany of pleas. And all for Armand.

He can’t let down that kind of faith. He can’t leave Jean. So he has to find a way home.

Armand stands. He’s wet through to the bone, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is putting one paw in front of the other, and finding a way _out_.

Jean has often called Armand a genius, in their quieter moments (which are Armand’s favorites). He’ll purr it, a rumble from deep in his chest, ‘Genius’. Or quietly, like he’s in awe, ‘My genius’. Or when he thinks Armand is asleep, he’ll miaow it soft but strong, with his nose pressed to the fur behind Armand’s ears.

If Jean thinks it, then it must be true. Armand begins to nose his way around the small enclosure. From what he can see, the walls are made of brick, and the floor is made of what Jean calls _concrete_. The air is heavy with the scene of…what is that? Oh, it’s human piss. Jean says it’s common in certain alleyways.

 Hang on.

Armand looks up – he can see the sky. So he’s not in a building. He’s in an alley. And if he walks forward, between the two walls, he should come to its end. Then he should be able to find out where he is.

If only Armand could remember how he got to the Alley. He pauses, stretching, and tries to gather his memories.

Armand had been looking for Jean. And then – _Rochefort_! And with that thought, Armand knows what happened.

Rochefort had been new. Only in the house a day or so. Armand disapproved. Jean was on edge, and said he was going outside to get some ‘air’. Then Rochefort came to him an hour later, saying that he wanted to make amends. Saying that Jean was outside, but that he was trapped inside one of the bins. Saying that Jean had tried to yowl for help, for Armand, but that he had fallen deep into the rubbish and knocked himself out.

Armand hates going outside. But ‘hate’ wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe the revulsion he felt at the thought of loosing Jean, so outside Armand had gone. Into the bins, miaowing desperately for Jean.

Armand hadn’t seen Rochefort at his back, poised to push him in, until it was too late. So it had been Armand who had fallen into the darkness, and knocked himself out.

Jean wouldn’t have fallen for it. But Armand had, in every way possible.

When he returns home, Armand will enjoy helping Jean tear Rochefort apart.  


	5. Rochefort [Part Two]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armand finds his way home.

The problem with outside, Armand reflects, is that there is far too much of it. And it’s far too cold. 

“Jean?” He miaows cautiously. 

There is no reply. Armand’s heart is momentarily gripped by fear, then his mind reasserts himself. Jean didn’t reply, so what? That’s only to be expected; he’s barely moved from the heap of rubbish where he woke not ten minutes ago. If Jean couldn’t hear him then, there’s no rational reason why he’d be able to hear Armand now. 

Armand begins to walk slowly along the pavement, taking great care to tread carefully around several objectionable stains. He’s seen the state of Jean’s paws after his adventures outside, all covered in muck and grime. He’s even seen the scars on Jean’s toe-pads, from deep lacerations caused by hidden fragments of glass that were concealed under street dirt.

Armand pauses for a moment. Jean is perfection. But he has also been shaped in many ways by his experiences on the street. From what little Jean has told Armand about his life before he lived on the street, that Jean was very different from the Jean that Armand is lucky enough to love. Jean once even said that he wouldn’t recognize his past self anymore.

And _that_ Jean loves Armand now. What if this experience changes him, like Jean was changed? Will Jean still love him then? 

 _Jean, no!_ Armand’s heart cries out. “I’M COMING!” His yowls echo off the walls of the unfamiliar buildings. In the distance, Armand can hear a dog barking. He shivers, and presses himself against the closest wall. 

What if Rochefort isn’t merely satisfied with driving Armand away? In fact, the more Armand considers this, the more likely it seems that Rochefort will _not_ be. And without Armand there, who will protect Jean? Anne? _Louis?_

They might be Armand’s, but they are still humans. So much of the world just goes right past them. Armand wouldn’t trust them to tell a _bird’s lodging dispute_ from a _snake-backed coup d’état._ Armand has a lifetime of experience in these matters, which he has used to his human’s benefit. Maybe he has done his job too well. Without him there to guide their decisions, Armand has no doubt that they will fail.

This has been one of Armand’s secret fears since he was a kitten; that he would die, and his home would be destroyed for lack of his protection. Having Jean by his side helped Armand conquer this fear, but now it’s back in full force. There’s no telling what kind of damage Rochefort can do while Armand is gone. 

Armand shakes himself briskly. His vision is clearer then ever. No Rochefort, no _dogs_ , no _humans_ will stand in his way.

He has to get home. He has to get to Jean.

 

 

 

* * *

 

_“—and you must NOT hurt the fish, understand?”_

_“Fish? Anne, you said we were getting a dolphin.”_

_“Dauphin, Louis. It’s the name of a goldfish. Why would we get a dolphin, anyway? How the HELL would we fit a dolphin in such a tiny bowl?”_

Jean can’t take his eyes off of Rochefort. The other cat is staring at the fish in the glass bowl with an evil look in his eye.

“Leave it,” Jean growls. 

Rochefort’s tail twitches, and he doesn’t reply. 

Jean wants to sigh. Wants to curl up in a ball and wait for Armand (because Armand is coming home. Jean refuses to believe anything different).

But he can’t, so he won’t. “I won’t let you hurt the Dauphin,” he miaows bravely.

Rochefort slinks away.

Alone at last, Jean looks up at Anne and Louis. “I don’t trust him,” he miaows, “and you shouldn’t either.”

Anne bends down and strokes him hesitantly, but Jean can’t help but feel that she could be paying more heed to his intentions.

“I’ll take first watch,” he advises. “You can come and relieve me in two hours, Louis can relieve you two hours after that. This can work.”

Suddenly, Louis begins to shoo Jean out of the room. But – don’t they understand that their Dauphin needs guarding?

Jean is pushed out of the front door.

Armand would never have let this happen. Armand would know what to do.

After lying in the sun for a few moments, Jean stands, stretches, and begins his route around the garden. As the only cat left who will defend his humans (Rochefort doesn’t count. He seems determined to leave Anne and Louis unguarded), Jean needs to keep regular watch over the house.

It’s on Jean’s third lap of the garden that he notices the new car pulling up outside.

Out steps a man dressed all in black. The man opens the gate, skilfully navigating the plants Jean positioned in the path so as to disrupt any unwanted visitors.

Behind Jean the door opens, and Anne rushes out to embrace the man in black.

 

 

_“Dad, thank God you’re here.”_

_“My dear, I’m always happy to help. Though I don’t understand why you need me to. Just tell your husband’s friend that you can’t look after his cat for him—”_

_“—Vargas will have left the country by now. And I think Rochefort is really distressing Tre—our other cat.”_

_“Anne…”_

_“It’s only for a few months, Dad. This little cat will be just perfect for you. Maybe he’ll make the house a little less lonely?”_

_“I’m not lonely. I am alone, by choice. There is a difference.”_

_“…I know there’s a difference. Just like I know you’re lying. It’s okay to miss him you know.”_

_“I’m not here to talk about Jean de Treville—”_

_“—have you ever thought that might be your problem? You won’t talk about him, you certainly won’t talk to him…”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It doesn’t take Armand long to become helplessly, irrevocably, and totally lost. He has no idea where he’s going. It’s still dark, and cold, and he just wants to go home.

Armand is certain he’s never walked so far in his life – as a consequence, his paws are raw and bleeding, and it feels like the grime is caked in under his claws.

As his hope dwindles, Armand’s thoughts turn to Jean.

Rochefort could be doing any number of horrible things to him. In his eyes Armand had seen something evil.

It’s these dark thought that consume Armand’s mind, making him blind and deaf to his surroundings until he’s abruptly seized, and lifted from the ground to come face to face with –

Who, exactly? His words are soft and strong, and though Armand doesn’t understand them he finds himself sheathing his claws, and purring as the man’s hands carefully stroke his fur. 

There’s something in the man’s scent that speaks of home, and safety. Armand trusts the man, as he trusts only one other.

 

 

_“Hello, little cat…even if you aren’t the little cat I’m looking for, it’ll do you good to get away from this horrible place, hmm? I’m going to take you to see a man now, little cat. You might know him; or his daughter, anyway.”_

* * *

The man brings Armand somewhere new. 

At least it’s a house, he tells himself.

The door is opened for them by a tall man dressed in black. The man holding Armand straightens almost imperceptibly, but Armand isn’t fooled. Oh, so this is the man’s lover? Soon-to-be-lover.

The man in black smells familiar too. Almost like –

“Armand? ARMAND!”

“ _Jean_ ,” Armand’s relief is total. He half leaps, half falls from the man’s arms in his rush to reach his Jean.

“Armand, what happened? I missed you so much. Are you alright? What hurts? How can I help? Dear Lord, Armand? Armand?”

But Armand can’t reply. All he can do is purr ceaselessly, ‘Jean, Jean, Jean…” 

He’s back. He’s finally with Jean. Armand never wants to leave him again.

 

 

 

_"You didn't have to go to all this trouble --"_

_"It was no trouble, really."_

_"All the same - I am grateful, Treville."_

_"Please...call me Jean."_

_"Jean. Thank you."_

 

 

 

But just when Armand thinks Jean is going to settle down and offer him some cuddles, Jean pulls back, and looks him squarely in the eyes.

“Armand,” he miaows.

From somewhere, Armand summons his strength, and replies “Yes, my dear?”

Jean softens, and he leans back in to bump his nose to Armand’s. “Don’t be scared. This isn’t a scary talk.”

“It’s not?”

“No,” Jean purrs.

It’s then that Armand becomes aware that he and Jean are not the only two cats in the room. Behind Jean, he can now see four small bundles of cloth. And in the cloth, Armand can count four distinct shapes. Under his gaze, the shapes resolve themselves into –

“Kittens?” Armand miaows.

Jean shrugs. “They were here before I was. And they need us, Armand.” He’s got that twinkle in his eyes that Armand loves. It’s the same twinkle that Armand saw the first time they met, when Jean walked straight up to Armand and introduced him to his future. So Armand doesn’t really have a choice.

“They have names, I assume?” 

“And nothing else,” Jean purrs.

“Well…now they have us,” Armand miaows.

“Yes,” Jean presses close to Armand, “So they do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, cat!jean and cat!armand have finally got their shit together. Human jean and armand however...need a little encouragement, it seems.


End file.
